


Love Thy Neighbor

by LoveSickPrincess



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Bisexual Remy, Demisexual Pietro, Demisexuality, M/M, Pietro is An Angry Bunny, Remy can't keep it in his pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4010734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveSickPrincess/pseuds/LoveSickPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d never even met this neighbor in the two years they’d been beside each other. But the jackass sang in the kitchen and played his god awful music way too loud by day and had sex way too loudly by night like the world’s most irritating superhero. </p><p>OR: In which Remy LeBeau is the world's worst neighbor and Pietro is DONE WITH IT. And then maybe falls a little bit in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Thy Neighbor

“I am going to murder someone.” Pietro growled into his pillow, glaring at the wall. Whoever designed these apartments must have been designing a torture chamber. Because honestly, who put two bedrooms up next to each other, _and_  a kitchen up against someone else’s living room? “ _You are driving me crazy._ ” He hissed at the thin wall dividing his and his neighbor’s apartment. At least three days a week this happened. But his headphones had broken two weeks ago, so there was no shielding himself. Pietro shuddered at the rhythmic sounds of a bed hitting the wall repeatedly between the tired creak of springs and erotic moaning. He’d never even met this neighbor in the two years they’d been beside each other. But the jackass sang in the kitchen and played his god awful music way too loud by day and had sex way too loudly by night like the world’s most irritating superhero.

He slammed the side of his fist against the wall irritably. “Could you keep it down! Some of us are trying to sleep and actually have jobs in the morning!”

The only response he got was slightly louder groaning.

For a whole.

Half.

Hour.

* * *

 

The next morning, someone knocked on his door as Pietro groggily ate breakfast. Scratching the back of his head, he padded barefoot to the door and opened it, muttering to himself about how who the hell would come here so early in the morning. He paused and for a moment, wished he’d at least put on a shirt. Or fixed his hair. The man on the other side of the door was… well, gorgeous to put it bluntly. Not that he’d ever use that word about anything… Pietro couldn’t help his eyes drifting over what had to be the most perfect non-photoshopped torso he’d ever seen… and then drift back up to his …interesting eyes. Black sclera, and red irises. Of course the man would wear freaky contact lenses, he was too perfect otherwise… “What do you want?”

“Think the mail lady made a mistake. This is addressed to your place. “ He handed him a few envelopes.

“…Oh. Thanks. “ He nodded and started to close the door.

The man outstretched his hand, “Remy LeBeau.”

“Er. Pietro.” He shook it and raised an eyebrow.

“You got a nice accent Pietro.”

“…Thank you.”

Remy laughed. It was rich and full and actually…pleasant to hear. His voice was smooth despite the heavy accent in it. “Where you from?”

“Originally, Transia.”

“Transia? Never heard of it.”

“It’s in Europe, look I’m sort of getting ready for work right now so I can’t just stand here and chat. “

“Oh. Right sorry. “ Remy didn’t looked phased by the rudeness. “You’re a pretty prickly guy gotta say Pietro.” He said over his shoulder before disappearing into his apartment.

Right. Next. Door.

Of _course_ god-like weirdo was the one obnoxiously fucking people into the night.

Pietro groaned and slammed his door as hard as he could.

* * *

 

As soon as he got home, he dropped his jacket and tie inside before zooming to his neighbors door and pounding his fists on it. Now that he had a face to put to all of the obnoxious noises, he’d been fuming about it all day. The door opened and Remy seemed pleasantly surprised.

“Who do you even think—don’t you ever wear a shirt?” Pietro snapped, because seriously. Who just went all day without putting a shirt on.

Remy winked and smirked (Pietro wanted to punch him) ,” I like to be prepared. “

“Prepared for what.”

Remy didn’t answer, just raised his eyebrows and Pietro sighed. “Who the fuck do you think you are making so much noise all the time?! Some of us are just trying to lead a nice peaceful life. Without the sound of your shitty music or your shitty singing or even worse, hearing live porn every night.”

“I wish it was every night.”

“ _That’s not the point_!”

“Alright, aright,” Remy laughed. “Relax. You get more uptight you might break yourself.”

“Fuck off. Just fucking quiet down. And move your bed away from the wall.”

“You got it boss.” Remy leaned in the doorway. “Less you wanna come over and see what all the moaning’s about.”

“…What.” There was absolutely no way he was asking what he thought he was asking… Who the fuck just said something like that?! Hey come have mind blowing sex with me. No one was so casual about it… Pietro felt his cheeks heating up anyway, so he did his best to remain looking angry.

“Maybe you’d be a lil more understanding if you knew why they was screaming all night.” He leaned closer.

Pietro took a step back. “You’re disgusting. “

“Worth a shot. You’re cute, I’m cute. It could work.”

“You aren’t the least bit attractive. Move your bed or you’ll regret it.”

“What you gonna do blondie? Bang on the wall some more?” Remy called as Pietro stormed off into his own home. God he hated that guy. He hated him more after he had a very graphic sex dream about him.

* * *

Especially considering he started blushing madly when they ran into each other at the mail box.

“Hey,” Remy said going through his mail.

“Go away.” Pietro said quickly and started to head upstairs, tempted to use his powers to get away from that heavy gaze that always made him feel naked.

“I was just gonna invite you to dinner. An apology for fucking with you. I’m a pretty good chef. And you can take the leftovers home if you want. I don’t reheat food but you look like the kind of heathen who does.”

“Is that supposed to be an apology?” Pietro muttered , one foot on the stairs.

“Sorta. I make dinner around six. “

“’S also when you sing.” He muttered.

“I sing when I cook. It’s relaxing.” Remy shrugged and started upstairs around him. “Show up, don’t show up. Don’t matter to me any. “

Pietro ran up the stairs as fast as he could, smirking with satisfaction when he heard his neighbor fall back down the few steps he’d climbed. Cocky jackass.

* * *

All day at work, Pietro spent it pacing in his office. He could go, after all it was free food. And he might actually be a good chef. And if he wasn’t he could have the satisfaction of telling him so under the guise of constructive criticism. But he’d be trapped in that weirdo’s apartment for god knew how long social rules dictated… He could have his sister call him if things got too bad…

In the end, he found himself knocking on his neighbors door at six thirty .

“Come in~” Called a voice that sounded far away.

Pietro was actually quite a bit taken aback. Everything seemed… neat but cluttered. But what shocked him much more was that everything looked… rather expensive. The man looked practically homeless, he’d expected a much less nice place. He followed the sounds of quiet singing to the kitchen where Remy smiled over his shoulder at him.

“Hey, great timing, just about done. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.”

Pietro nodded awkwardly and settled himself at the table. On this side of the wall, without the singing being invasive and obnoxious, Pietro noticed Remy was actually pretty good. (And unfortunately wearing a shirt this time.) He sighed and leaned back in the chair, fidgeting with the napkins and the fork before his attention wandered around the apartment. Nice paintings and photography were all over the walls. “Did you do those?”

Remy glanced up and shrugged, “Some of them. Other ones I got from museums and auctions.”

“…Cool.” He nodded . “….So why do you wear contacts?”

“Contacts?”

“Yeah. Your eyes.” Remy laughed and Pietro flushed, embarrassed and, wondering what the hell he’d said that was so damn funny.

“I don’t wear contacts. That’s just how my eyes look. Doctors said it was some freak mutation.”

“…Mutation?”

“Among a few. “

“….You telling me you’re a mutant.”

“If that don’t bother you, yeah that’s what I’m saying.”

“It doesn’t. So am I.” He tried to hide how relieved he was there was another mutant in the building.

“I noticed. Didn’t think a wind blew me down those stairs .”

Pietro laughed quietly at the memory. “Just a small bit of revenge.” Remy rolled his eyes and set a steaming plate in front of him.

“Bon appétit. “ He bowed and sat down to eat his own.

“You never told me where you’re from.”

“New Orleans. It ain’t obvious?”

“I’m not great with accents. “ He shrugged and started eating, a little disappointed the food was actually delicious.

“What you think?” Remy asked after a few minutes of silence. Steeling himself, Pietro only shrugged and kept eating, smirking to himself at the look on Remy’s face after. “You obviously got no taste-buds. “

“Or you just don’t know when to stop with the spices.”

“Or you got no sense of quality.” Remy narrowed his eyes. He was seriously so defensive of his cooking? Pietro couldn’t help but snort into his food which only served to make Remy even more offended.

“I’m only fucking with you. Calm down. I feel like you’re about to throw the table.”

“You’re a jackass.” Remy scoffed and they finished their food in silence. Remy took the plates, shooing Pietro away when he tried to volunteer to wash them.

“You’re not done eating I made dessert sit back down lapin.”

“The fuck is lapin?”

“It’s French.”

“I got that, thanks. “

Remy smirked and set a dessert plate in front of him. “Lemon Meringue Tart. “

“Great what’s a lapin.”

“None of your business eat you dessert. “

Pietro narrowed his eyes and ate it slowly, savoring the flavor quietly. After several minutes with his eyes closed, he finished and it occurred to him he should probably say something. “Thanks for dinner.” He began, unsure of where to go from there. Should he leave? Should he help clean up? “You ever thought about being a chef?”

“I’ve thought about it but never seemed realistic.”

“…Obviously you’re a good cook, and you look like you’ve got the money.”

“I sorta always been in the family business. It’s been expected of me. “ Remy called as he started washing dishes. Pietro joined him in the kitchen, his eyes straying down to watch his hands. They looked smooth and careful… Nimble. He wondered if Remy could sew, recalling a memory of his mother talking about how sewing took nimble hands.

“Yeah I get that… I work for my father too. Never had much of a choice in the matter. He just sorta told me what to do, so I did it. Not that it’s a bad job…”

“Just wish you woulda been given the option to do something else.” Remy finished for him, clearly speaking from experience. Though Pietro sort of just appreciated the understanding. It was the first time he’d thought about the fact that jackass sex addict next door might be a real person . With a life and a job and a family.

“Yeah… something like that.”

“Speaking of work, I’m gonna be on a business trip next week for at least a week. So. A whole weak without singing, music, or ‘live porn’ as you call it, for you.” Remy grinned and wiped his hands before putting the dishes away.

“Thank god, I might not go insane then.”

“You know, I never heard you getting any.” He smirked. Pietro went back to wanting to punch him.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t think I owe someone I just met an answer to that.”

“What kind of movies you like?”

“…What?”

“Movies. What do you like.”

“…I don’t know. Lots.”

“I rented a movie this morning, it’s gotta go back tomorrow, you want to watch it with me?”

“No hookers tonight?”

“Nah. Gotta rest in between.” He grinned and made his way to the living room, pushing a DVD in. “You can leave if you want. I just like having company, being around people. It’s nice. Even when the people are as pointlessly angry and bitter as you.”

“I have points.”

“Yeah, two of them are your cheekbones. Could cut yourself on those things.” Remy flopped on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table which made Pietro shudder. There was little he hated more than when people did that. And his youngest sister did it every damn time she was over. But still. He sat down.

They watched in silence. Well. Not exactly silence , more, Remy trying to talk and Pietro threatening to rip his hair out if he didn’t just shut up. “

Thanks for being my company.”

“Thanks for making me not hate you as much. I might have to take you off my public enemy list.”

“Oh I best be #1. “

“You have been for two years. “ Pietro affirmed, unsure what to say next. They were just hovering by the door awkwardly. It only got even more awkward when Remy crowded him against it stealing a heated kiss.

The shorter stared wide eyed after he backed away before his face turned red and he looked angry. “What was that?!”

“…Musta misread some signals.” Remy said with the slightest hint of nervousness in his voice.

“You think?! Like I’d ever be interested in the inconsiderate asshole who bangs a different person every night? No thanks!” He snapped , left, and slammed the door behind him. Pietro’s hands were trembling but he didn’t stop until he was safe in his own apartment and leaning against the wall. Because the crazy thing was… he’d liked it. Which was… bizarre. At the very least. He’d never liked kissing anyone. To him it was like… kissing a pillow or at best, like kissing some obscure family member. A chore and not particularly pleasant. His past (very few) relationships had always gotten on his case about it. Not bothering to be intimate, or cuddle or kiss… It’d just never meant anything to him. Or done anything. But that… that had done both and it was simultaneously terrifying and confusing.

* * *

An hour later, he’d calmed down, deciding he’d imagined his enjoyment of the kiss, he’d just been startled it was so sudden… He’d decided years ago he’d just never be a romantic or sexual person… There was a knock at the door and his heart pounded in his throat. He slowly made his way (although his slow was still a normal person’s fast) to the door and opened it, expecting tall-dark-and kissing for no reason to be there. Instead there was just a little glass bowl with a lid containing the rest of the night’s dinner, and a post-it reading ,

“Hey, I’m real sorry I kissed you. It was stupid of me. Thought I saw something. I like spending time with you though, so if you ever want to come to dinner again just come on over.”

And he smiled softly to himself, carrying the bowl inside and sticking it onto the fridge. Maybe he would go back over. He was obnoxious but… in a fun way face to face.

* * *

It took him week to go back over, knocking on the door at six that time, that way hopefully it was early enough Remy could make enough for two. The Cajun answered the door in an apron but he seemed unashamed. His eyes lit up when he saw Pietro and he grinned. There was that weird feeling in his chest again… Almost like being nervous but not quite… “Come on in, I thought you wasn’t gonna come.” Remy ushered him inside and paused at the kitchen. “…You wanna learn to cook?” He asked hesitantly. “I just started.”

“….Um. Yeah sure why not.” It’d be helpful to not have to order takeout and frozen dinners almost every night. He rolled up his sleeves and followed his instructions. Remy was a very hands on sort of person, he found. Not shy about guiding his hand to whisk right or sliding a hand along his waist to move him out of the way. He just gave off a feeling of being… comfortable. Around other people and in his own skin. It was new to him but not… unpleasant. After an hour of working together in the kitchen, Pietro actually felt himself starting to relax a little. Remy laughed easy and he was actually very smart, in the witty sort of way. Pietro decided he was a good teacher… and might even be a good friend.

He wasn’t sure when the last time he’d had a friend was , aside from his sisters. Remy didn’t seem to be offended easily, and he actually did seem to enjoy spending time with him, which was also new… Remy placed the food neatly onto two dishes as if preparing to serve at a gourmet restaurant, and untied his apron.

“There you go. You just cooked your first high class meal.” He grinned and moved the dishes to the table.

“…Wow I actually did.” Pietro actually smiled as he sat down.

“You drink?” Remy called from the kitchen.

“Sometimes. What do you have?”

“Thought some white wine would go good with this.”

“Sure why not.” Remy came back with two wine glasses poured and set one in front of each plate.

“And, viola. Dinner is served.” Again, it was delicious. And Pietro felt a slight pang of pride that he’d made this. “It’s great.”

“Well I had a great soux chef. “ Pietro blushed softly and focused on eating.

“How many brothers and sisters do you have?” Remy asked.

“Two sisters. A twin and a younger one.” Pietro beamed as if he were talking about his children. His sisters were most certainly the most important things in his life.

“ I only got one, a little brother. Always wondered what it’d be like to have a sister.”

“It’s awful women are evil.” Remy laughed, nearly spitting out his wine.

“That why you’re grinning ear to ear?”

“They make me. If I talk badly about them they’ll know.”

The conversation continued on like that, light spirited talk about their lives and mocking jabs every so often. Pietro told him that he’s pretty much (along with his sisters) the heir to a multi-billion dollar corporation, Remy evaded questions about his work, as it turned out, Remy had given opening up a restaurant a lot of thought. Down to the floor plan and the name. Pietro gave him a show of his powers and Remy apologized that his powers weren’t ,as he put it, ‘exactly, indoor toys’. They cleaned up the mess of things that fell over and shattered or scattered from Pietro running around and for the first time since he moved out on his own, Pietro felt like he could breathe again. They talked until both of them were yawning and were reduced into murmuring about how they needed to get to bed.

Remy packed up Pietro’s leftovers, have them to him and Pietro fell asleep with a smile on his face because for the first time in his life, he actually had a friend.

* * *

“So I was wondering, when you run do you get underwear riding up? Or do you just not wear any?”

Pietro nearly dropped the phone in shock. Sitting in his office, was the last place he expected to get a call that opened with that. “ _How did you get this number_.” Pietro hissed and he heard Remy laugh infuriatingly on the other line.

“I’m resourceful you know that by now. I also know where you live.”

“You’re a fucking idiot. “ He sighed and rubbed his temple. “This is not a conversation we are going to have .”

“Come on I’ve been wondering for the past three months.”

Three months… had it really been that long? Living life as quickly as he did… it was hard for Pietro to keep up with the days… but.. he guessed it had been. They’d eventually reduced themselves into having dinner together every night, Remy teaching Pietro a different recipe every day. “We’ll talk over dinner tonight. But we’re having it at my place. I’m getting sick of staring at your decorations and the fact that they don’t match.”

“I don’t got my ingredients at your place. “

“I’m cooking tonight. Figure it’s time the student becomes the master.”

“You got a long way to go before you’s any type of master.” Remy snorted and Pietro narrowed his eyes.

“Shut it. I’m cooking for you, you don’t get to complain. Or I’ll kick you out.” He slammed the phone back down on the receiver.

* * *

Pietro was nowhere near ready when Remy came over. Dinner was only half finished, there was trash and take-out boxes everywhere, a huge stack of movies beside the DVD player, he hadn’t even put anything away let alone dusted. Regardless, when Remy entered he whistled.

“You got an eye for interior design I see.”

“My sisters loved to watch all those house TV shows. I never got much of a choice. So I picked up some things.”

“It’s nice. I like it. Very open. Unlike you, lapin.”

“You’re one to talk, how many times have you told me you can’t tell me something? “

“My house reflects my personality though.”

“Which part? Disaster? Or distasteful?”

“I guess yours does show how much of a mess you are if nothing else.” Remy shrugged and flopped on the couch. “ When’s dinner I’m starving.”

“Dinner will be ready when it’s ready. You’re just early. “

“It’s seven. I heard you swearing, figured you needed help from _The Master_.”

“That’s it get out of my house.” Remy laughed and ignored him, leaning back in the couch. “If so much as a sock touches that coffee table I will actually murder you with this.”

Remy glanced back. “Lapin, that’s a spoon.”

“Imagine how much it’ll hurt then.” Pietro threatened before going back to stirring the sauce.

It took half an hour of Remy’s unhelpful prodding and another fifteen minutes of them full out yelling over the best way to serve the dish before dinner was finally on the table.

They watched another movie that night.

Some bizarre comedy that was only funny the smallest portion of the time. “You have the worst taste.” Remy hissed.

“Yeah I know fuck off.” Pietro hissed back. “I have even worse taste in friends though.”

“Oh that one just hurt. You love me, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Pietro rolled his eyes staring at the screen before his entire body tensed. His blood ran cold and he stood suddenly.

“You have to go.” He demanded. Remy looked at him like he was a man possessed, but slowly stood and allowed Pietro to shoo him to the door.

“’Tro are you alright?”

“I just need you to leave good night.” Pietro shut the door in his face quickly and leaned against it looking horrified with himself. Because in the moment he’d said yes… he was almost positive he meant it.

He stared at his phone, dying to call Wanda and to ask her what to do but she’d just say something unhelpful like ‘ _talk to him_ ’ and Lorna would just laugh until he hung up. And he’d ask Remy if he wasn’t the god damn problem…

Pietro didn’t sleep that night at all.

* * *

 

The next night Pietro pretended not to be home when Remy came to knock curiously at his door when he never showed up for dinner.

Or the next.

* * *

On the third day , after barely sleeping, Pietro couldn’t hide and stay silent his entire day off, he knocked on Remy’s door. Remy seemed relieved to see him.

“Here I was hoping you was dead. Guess my wishes just don’t come true.” He smirked and Pietro jammed his fists into his pocket not responding which made the other frown. “…You alright? You look paler than usual. And there’s some competition there.”

“Yeah. Just. Exhausted. I was wondering if you wanted to grab some coffee. I need it.”

“Um yeah sure. Lemme grab a shirt. And my keys. “ Remy disappeared inside and Pietro didn’t dare follow him in, praying his coat (well Remy’s coat actually. He’d borrowed it a month ago and never gave it back. But damn it, it was warm and comfortable and fit him perfectly. Besides Remy never asked for it back anyway) would hide his shivering from nerves. Remy reappeared and locked the door behind him.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just want coffee.” Pietro repeated forcefully and Remy fell silent until they arrived at the shop.

“It’s on me. “ He offered and Pietro grit his teeth , trying not to yell at him. Because how dare he be so nice when he was so rude. He was some asshole that just had to come ruin everything and ruin his perception of himself and his entire life and now he was offering to _buy him coffee_? The fuck was that?! Pietro merely nodded in thanks. He ordered quietly and sat on the bench outside, feeling the hot liquid through the paper, warming his hands.

“We gonna talk?” Remy sighed as he exited the shop and sat beside him, his own coffee in hand.

“Have you ever been in love with somebody?”

Remy raised his eyebrows, clearly in a state of shock.. “Er, yeah once or twice. Why?”

“Well I haven’t. Not even my first girlfriend. Which . You know how they always say you never forget your first, you always have feelings for them?”

“Yeah. I know. I was engaged to my first girlfriend.”

Well that didn’t help any. How the fuck could he explain never having feelings to someone who always had feelings… “Well… I never felt like that. I mean. I love people. I love my sisters, I loved my mom, I even love my dad most of the time when he’s not being a jackass. But I don’t love other people. I’ve tried. I don’t… get attracted to them, like. Sexually, and I never love them either. They’re just sorta… there.”

Remy was staring at him intently, his coffee untouched. “Okay… I think I see where you’re coming from… Do you feel like there’s something wrong with that? Is that what this is?”

Pietro shook his head and stared hard at the concrete below his feet, “No! No I… I was always very content. That’s just who I am. I’m just not meant to fall in love I guess. “

“So…?”

“So now I think I love someone. And I don’t know if I do or what I’m supposed to do about it because I’ve never felt this before and it’s fucking with my head.”

He wasn’t looking up, and couldn’t see Remy’s crestfallen face but he jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you talk to that person? Explain all this to them and ask what they want to do about it? There’s no harm in trying out a relationship if you think there might be something real there. Besides, once you get past your cactus first impression you’re a pretty great guy.”

“I can’t talk to him. I can’t… I can’t lose him.” Pietro said quietly, feeling like a terrified child.

“Well if he breaks your heart I can just beat the shit out of him for you.”

Pietro couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Which was pretty complicated considering the fact that he also found that he was crying. But just the image of Remy repeatedly punching himself in the face… “…Yeah maybe.” He said softly once he’d calmed down. “Can we go home? I need to think.”

“Yeah sure… You just come right over if you need me alright? That’s what I’m there for. That and annoying the shit out of you.”

Pietro laughed weakly again and wiped his eyes as they climbed into the car. Pietro stared out the window thinking silently.

They climbed the stairs in unison . “…Actually could I come in for a little?”

“Huh? Er yeah, it’s a little messy but why not.” Remy led him in and Pietro threw his cup away, curling up on the couch.

“…What’s it feel like?”

“What?”

“What does it feel like? All that being in love.”

“…I don’t know. I guess it’s different for everyone.” Remy leaned against the wall. “I mean for me… it’s kinda scary…. I’m not a man who likes to be tied down but when I love someone, suddenly I want to be. I want to be with them no matter what. And the stupid things they do that annoy me don’t matter as much because I love so many other things they do. I want to share myself with them. Give them parts of me, in case we split so they can remember me as good things. I just like being close to them.”

Pietro nodded and stared blankly at the wall. Then a thought crossed his mind… “What sort of part of you?”

Remy shrugged. “I don’t know…things I love, things I love doing… Anything important to me.”

He stood, wandering the familiar apartment, his eyes scanning over the kitchen they’d spent so much time in. He thought about all the hours they’d spent nearly pressed together side to side. About Remy’s casual touches and the way he sang softly under his breath even through Pietro was there to hear him. The way he always looked proud when they finished a dish together. The dozens of recipes Pietro had collected in his kitchen. “Like cooking?”

He looked back to see Remy all but frozen against the wall.

Remy swallowed and Pietro watched him expectantly. But he received no answer. He walked over to the man, close enough he had to peer up at him (damn those few inches the other had on him). “Is that something you’d share with someone you love so they always remember you?”

“…Could be.” He finally uttered.

“Remember when you kissed me right here?”

“How could I forget you ran out like I’d slapped you.”

“You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Do you still think about kissing me?” Another pause before Remy conceded, “All the time.”

“Is it because you love me?”

“…Rather not answer that just yet.”

Pietro looked down a minute and looked back up. “Do you want to try? “

“I’ve been trying.” He laughed quietly. “God Pietro, I lit candles last week. What do you want me to do, make a path of rose petals when you walk in.”

“You said your power was out. “

“It’s an electric gas stove. Plus we live in an apartment. It ain’t exactly likely only my power goes out.”

Pietro bit his lip and reached up with a trembling hand to run his fingers into the hair at the back of Remy’s head. “I think I love you too.”

“Well I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Remy murmured quietly, a centimeter away from his lips , “Can I kiss you without you running away this time?”

“No promises, but you can try.”

“…Close enough.”

Pietro couldn’t help but smile when they kissed. His heart slammed against his chest so fast it almost hurt, and he felt dizzy and he relished the feeling of Remy’s arms sliding around his waist and holding him close, and the feel of his lips moving and maybe love wasn’t so scary after all.


End file.
